Makeover Wonders
by Wishing Star67
Summary: Atobe's father imposes a difficult favor to his son to give a spunky, rude, torn up rich girl to reform into a proper lady. Atobe tries, but the girl isn't willing to participate! Now what? Edited, something went wrong so wrong chap. uploaded. Sorry!
1. Prologue

This is just the prologue-and I'm not entirely sure about this story, but what the heck! Please R&R!!! XD

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**"Mission Impossible"**

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"Keigo, I have a favor to ask of you."

Atobe snapped his head up, gaping at his father. He sunk in even deeper into the violet-cushioned arm-chair as his mind raced.

'Favor? Ore-sama has never recieved a request of a _favor_ from Ore-sama's father before! What in the world...?!'

"F-Favor? Ore-sama shall see what he can do." Atobe tried his best to regain his calm demeanor as his insides churned. A puff of smoke escaped his father's pipe. The grey mass circled near Atobe, and he breathed in the toxic scent. Atobe was nervous now-his father _never _smoked from his custom-made pipe unless he was displeased, or placed in a disposition.

"I want you to reform a girl into a proper lady."

Atobe dropped his glass of water.

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This is the girl he'd bet his pride and work on?! This was the girl that he'd ensured his father he could transform?! Impossible... Atobe could not stop staring in shock at the girl in front of him. It wasn't that she was particularly ugly... it was just...well... Okay, she was ugly!

The girl in front of him had her midnight blue hair in a high ponytail, a sideways cap tossed on her head. Her pale face glowered at him, her black eyes narrowed. Her mouth was noisy; what a disgusting way to chew gum. She was dressed in ripped up straight jeans, with a stained, oversized sweatshirt. Her blue converse were qute the sight-the bottom was peeling off, the laces so full of dirt you could hardly tell they were made of cloth at all, and they were ripped at the sides. Atobe's left eye continued to twitch. Her entire being reeked of annoyance and...a gang-like posture. It was impossible to recognize this girl as the heiress to the second-largest economically leading industry of Japan. Atobe staggered back.

'_Oh, __**no.**_'

"What the hell is this?" the girl growled. She snapped at the guards who surrounded her-her father's very own personal bodyguard ensemble. A.K.A., her father's pride and joy-not to mention gift to the girl- the V.V.I.P.B.G.-the 'Very Very Important Persion Bodyguard Ensemble.'

"M'lady, please calm down-"

"How can I fucking calm down, you asshole?! I'm kidnapped and bound, then dumped in front of some pompous freak who gapes at me!"

Atobe was shaken out of his reverie as he heard the phrase 'pompous freak who gapes at me.'

"What did you just call Ore-sama? You should be grateful Ore-sama is even helping to transform you," Atobe added with flourish.

The girl sneered.

"Oh, grateful, eh? Grateful that some jerk is going to start picking out my clothes like a gay person?"

"What? Ore-sama demands an apology right now!"

"Yadda!"

"Now!"

"No!"  
"Now!"

"NO!"

"NOW!!"

"NO!!!"

"KEIGO!"

Atobe whirled around-to be met by his father's stern gaze. The man then looked past his son and towards the girl. He bowed.

"It's nice to meet you, Midori-san."

"It's nice t'meet ya too," the girl grumbled back. "But I still don't see why I was brought here this way."

"Keigo, start the project at once."

The son bowed. As his father left, Atobe snapped his fingers, closing his grey eyes.

"Now then. Servents! Give her a full spa treatment-and remove _all _permanent make-up, hair dye, hair extensions, hair styles, etc. she may have applied-"

"Oi! I don't do that kind of stuff!"

"And bring her back to me."

And for the rest of the afternoon, Atobe chose to ignore the wailing scream of protest ringing through the Atobe mansion.

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A knock came to the door. Atobe looked up from his book, snapping it shut with one elegant movement.

"Atobe-sama," a tired, muffled voice called.  
"Hm?"

"We're done."

Atobe smirked.

"Bring her in."


	2. Failure Number One

"Let me go! Hey-don't you dare touch me! HEY!" the girl protested loudly as she was shoved inside the oak doors. Next to her stood a haggard maid-and she was only twenty-three. What a pity. But Atobe didn't care; he merely continued to stare and blink-again-at the complete, 360 degree transformation the girl had taken. She'd transformed from a stray street dog...to a suitable heiress-even the title 'princess' would fit. Midori's (come to think of it, Atobe didn't even know her first name-damn the old man!) hair was a soft yellow-not quite blonde-with darker highlights. Her eyes were a deep amber, instead of the blackness of her color contacts she's purchased, and her skin was actually a bit rosier than the pale powder she'd adorned herself with. Midori was now wearing a pale yellow dress, much to her obvious disgust, and her tearing sneakers were replaced with yellow heels. The girl glared furiously at the young heir.  
"Oi! Pompous jerk! What the hell is this!" Midori flew at Atobe.

Atobe's smirk returned, wider than ever.

"Ore-sama was merely doing his job. But it seems it turned out for the better," he drawled. Atobe got up, dusting an invisible fleck off his shoulder, waltzing gracefully to stop in front of Midori. He leaned down and inwards, gently picking up a few strands of her hair. He let it slip through her fingers, silently laughing at the girl's sudden silence. But all those thoughts were gone in the instant Midori had slapped his face. Atobe re-adjusted his jaw, glaring disbelievingly at the girl, and massaged his sore face.

"So you're one of those flirty guys who have nothing better to do with their lives than play around with girls? Aw, that's so sweet. Now get lost!" Midori kicked him in the stomack, kicking off her heels afterwards. She stomped out of the room, ignoring the guards' stricken faces, the maids' gasps, and most of all, Atobe's groans. Midori huffed-she probably left a mark with her heels-and a good thing, too!

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"That girl did what?!" Atobe bellowed. He abruptly stood up from his breakfast at his bed. The maid cowered, her head shrinking into her shoulders.

"W-well, s-she a-applied to S-Seishun Ga-Gakuen, young master," the woman blurted.

"Seigaku?! That completely useless retard! Goddamn it!" Atobe stormed out of his room, carelessly picking up his book-bag, not caring about the wrinkles his uniform would get as he usually would. He stomped down the stairs, down the hall, through the archway, down the outdoor west hallway, into the west wing, and slammed open one of the double doors. He glowered at Midori, whom was noisily sipping her soup-at least, he thought with satisfaction, she didn't go back to her old ways.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he bellowed.

Midori choked on her soup, spitting it out-onto the bald head of the server.

"What?! God-can't a person eat in this house?!"

"How dare you apply for Seigaku!"

"Seigaku? ...Seigaku...seigaku...seigaku...ah! Seishun Gakuen? What about it?"

"It's a commoner's school!"

"So? If you think I'm attending your little prissy school with rich pricks like you all around, you're mistaken, big guy. And besides-" Midori took a spoonful of her pink yogurt. "Why do you even care?"

"Why do I care?! Because Ore-sama's father will be furious at Ore-sama! That's why!"

"Dude-think you can tone down on the 'Ore-sama?' I mean, I do know that you're sort of the gay type and all, but that's too-"

"Ore-sama is not gay!"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways-tone down on the gay-ness, will ya? Well, gotta go!" Midori stood up and it was now that Atobe's jaw dropped. The girl was wearing black skinny jeans, a chain belt, and a black collared vest with a black shirt underneath. She'd resumed her torn up converse shoes. Except this time, she had new, freshly oldish-cut, black ones.

"You will not ignore Ore-sama! And how dare you throw away Ore-sama's refinery! And you will not step out of this house looking like that-"

_SLAM! _

Atobe was utterly ignored as the wind from the impact of the door shutting hit his face. He was left alone in a room with a punk's half-eaten breakfast. Ha.

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"And so class, please welcome Midori Seiyu to our class-she'll be joining us this year. Seira-san, why don't you introduce yourself?"

The homeroom teacher flashed a brilliant smile at Midori, whom hid her hair and her face behind her white cap that she adorned.

"Sensei." Midori's cold voice froze the teacher. "I don't think that we're that acquainted yet. If you can refrain yourself from using my first name, I'd love it. How about it, _sensei?" _

The teacher's smile remained frozen in place, but it cracked a bit.

"Nyaa-Fujiko, he's scary!" Eiji whispered furiously across the aisle.

Fuji merely smiled mysteriously back.

"Fujiko-you should stop scaring me at the wrong times! Mou!" Eiji pouted.

"I heard that."

Eiji fearfully snapped his head towards Seira, who was facing him.

"You're lucky I'm not like 'Mr. Gay Ore-sama', so be grateful that I'm not using my family's name to pulverize you. I'm Midori Seiyu. Fortunately, I'll be making sure that I'm on the plane back to Germany soon enough, so it's not really nice to meet you or anything."

The teacher cringed.

"W-Well then, _Midori-san, _please go take a seat next to Fuji-kun. Fuji-kun, could you raise your hand?"

Fuji smiled widely and obediently raised his hand. He followed Seira with his closed eyes as she walked towards him.

"And Midori-san, please take off your hat. They're not allowed in school," the teacher sniffed. "And I see that you're not wearing your uniform. Where is it?"

The sensei flinched when Seira turned back to shoot a look at her, but remained firm in her decision. With a muttering of "Che," Seira whipped off her hat. Her regal hair came pouring down, and the class gasped. She was a girl?! Fuji's smile now reached his ears.

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"Seira-chan! I didn't know you were a girl!" Eiji piped as he hopped to catch up with the girl, dragging Fuji behind him. Seira immediately stopped in her tracks.

"Seira-chan? Look, bud, I don't know you, so stop calling me by my first name. And you didn't think I was a girl, even after seeing my chest? What an idiot."

Seira continued to walk away. Eiji, to her annoyance, followed.

"Seira-chan-" Seira twitched. "Wanna come to tennis practice with us?"

Seira visibly flinched.

"Tennis? No thanks-! OI!"

Seiyu tried to snap her jaws down on the arm that pulled her outside, but Eiji happily ignored this and continued to skip towards the courts. That is, until Tezuka's voice rang out, loud and clear.

"Kikumaru! Fuji! You're late!"

"Nya-Tezukaaa! Mou-we were only showing our new classmate around!" Eiji retaliated, a pout crossing his face.

He faltered when a cold look met his eyes. Eiji frowned once more, and began to start on his laps.

"Fuji."

The smiling tensai turned to Tezuka.

"Nani, Tezuka?" Fuji asked pleasantly.

"Your laps? And we're in practice-nobody should be allowed in the courts."

This was when Seira stepped out from behind Fuji. When Seira's amber eyes met Tezuka's hazel ones, they widened.

"Ah-suicidal guy!" Seira gasped.

The regulars stopped their rallies and running to raise their eyebrows and snicker.

"Suicidal guy, Tezuka? Maa, maa, you seem to have quite a history," Fuji laughed.

"T-Tezuka-you tried committing suicide?!" Oishi asked, aghast.

Momo and Echizen snickered.

Tezuka closed his eyes calmly-this was getting out of hand.

"Exactly…how did you try to commit suicide, buchou?" Echizen chuckled.

"Tennis bratling," Seira reveled, staring at Echizen with wide eyes.

Echizen gaped.

"Heeehh, Midori-san, you sure do get around, don't you?" Fuji chuckled lightly.


	3. Memories

Okay, here we go again...sigh...Thank you for all the reviews so far! Even if it doesn't seem like it, I read each and every one very carefully-and I love them!!! Anyways, a wonderful reviewer, xzlioness, proposed that I change the title to "My Fair Lady." What do you think? And anyways, my computer has been uploading some wrong documents and all, so sorry about the first chappie! XD...Please review!

-Wishing Star67

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**"Memories"**

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_"Tezuka-san! You shouldn't be overworking your shoulder!" _

_Tezuka merely ignored the distressed nurse as he continued to serve the ball, one yellow sphere after another._

_"Tezuka-san!"_

_Tezuka continued to disregard her._

_"Fine! You know what-I don't CARE!" _

_The nurse angrily huffed and stormed back into the rehabilitation center. Tezuka spared her a glance before going back to hitting the balls._

_"Hehhh...you're the famous Tezuka Kunimitsu, ne?"_

_Tezuka caught the ball with a swift motion in his right hand, and turned around. His hazel eyes widened as he saw a girl standing on the low wall before him. Her hair was blowing slowly in the breeze, mussed in places. She wore a pale blue formal dress, the right strap hanging down her shoulder, it's hem torn a bit. Her feet were clackened with dirt, seeing as she had obviously given up her shoes._

_Tezuka, for the first time, was rendered speechless._

_"You know-I'd rather just give up playing tennis, heal myself, and quit. What's the big deal-"_

_"I would never do that."_

_The girl gave a start, but resumed her snarky smile a moment after._

_"Whatever, Mr. Suicidal Guy. You're just like a person I used to know. Tennis was his demise, let me tell you that."_

_"Mr. Suicidal Guy...?"_

_The girl snorted._

_"You really are deaf to everything outside of tennis, aren'tcha? They-the staff-call you the Suicidal Guy. Cuz' you continue practicing ilke that-forget about ever healing your blasted arm."_

_"Who are you?"_

_"Me? Midori Seira. Good to finally meetcha."_

_Tezuka narrowed his eyes._

_"And you're dressed like that because...?"_

_"I ran away from this congratulatory party."_

_"Why?"_

_"You like asking a lot a' questions, don'tcha?"_

_Tezuka felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips._

_"Iie. I'd just like to know about a ragged-looking stranger who calls me suicidal-not to mention stopped my tennis game."_

_The girl humphed._

_"What? I ran away to come here. Happy?"_

_But when Seira turned back around to face Tezuka, he'd resumed his game._

_A few hours later, when Tezuka finally finished, the sun had begun to set. He turned around; the girl was gone._

_-_

_"Let go of me!"_

_Ryoma sighed as he lowered his ponta from his lips. He cocked his head sideways._

_A girl, wearing unusual clothes-for a girl-was trying to escape from three guys-all skaters, by the looks of it. She wore skinny black pants and tank top, complete with the metal-studded thick belt. A hat lay nearby; the boys had probably whipped it off her head. _

_"Why don't you play with us, pretty?"_

_The one holding her wrist leaned in._

_The girl spat in his face, jeering._

_"I don't think so, hotshot."_

_"Why you little-OW!"_

_Ryoma grimaced. He'd thrown his empty can of Ponta out of instinct-bad move._

_"Brat!"_

_"Ne. I don't think she wants to go with you-unless my eyes are failing me," Ryoma smoothly replied._

_'Even worse move...joy.'_

_"What did you say? Think you're that great?"_

_"No. I __**know **__that I'm great."_

_"Looks like you play tennis. Can you skate?" Another boy asked, smirking. _

_The middle one regained his composure._

_"Yeah. If you're so great, come on. Down these stairs, through the pipe, down to the pool in that property-over the wall-stays. If you win, then you can have 'er. How 'bout it?"_

_Ryoma inwardly laughed. Skate? Him? The prince of tennis? So sorry-the tennis prince stays on __**still **__ground, thank you very much._

_"Hehhh...looks fun."_

_'Me and my big mouth. Visit our website, ' boys snickered and threw the girl over._

_"Watch and learn, little boy." _

_The middle one hopped on his skateboard with unmatched expertise, and slid down the railing of the stairs behind them._

_Ryoma began rotating his wrists before he was pulled fiercely by the girl, whom had knelt down by now._

_"Are you an idiot?!" she whispered angrily. "You can't skate!"_

_"How do you know?"_

_"Just look at you! You're meant for the ground, not a platform, idiot!!"_

_"And?"_

_"Look-just do as I tell you. I'll switch around the bargain. I'll skate, ou become the hostage."_

_"No way-I'm not playing hostage."_

_"Well-can you skate?"_

_"No."_

_"That course they just named-you'd have had to practice for at least a few months to even dream of it! Do you like tennis?"_

_"Duh. Are you an idiot? Ow!" _

_Ryoma rubbed his head where the girl had hit him._

_"Do you want to fall of and break your back and never play again?"_

_Ryoma went through a momentary shock mode. He hadn't thought of that before. What if he gets hurt? He'll never be able to play tennis again! What's worse, he wouldn't be able to beat his dad! And then he'd be tormented every single long day by his laughing dad..._

_A look of pure terror crossed his face.  
"Thought not. Then leave it to me," the girl hissed._

_-_

_The boy came back a few minutes later, sweating profusely._

_"It's your turn, little boy," he sneered mockingly._

_"I'll go in his place. If I lose...you can have him as your slave. Bet some money on his tennis skills, whatever you want," the girl offered._

_"Oi!" Ryoma protested._

_"What? You can't hang-at least, any more than this brat."_

_"Wanna bet?"_

_"Fine-be prepared to win some money, brat."_

_The girl snatched the skateboard from one of the boys._

_As she hopped on, Ryoma called her once more._

_"What?"_

_"What's your name?"_

_"Midori Seira. See ya." _

_The girl slid down the railing calmly, picking up more speed. She disappeared inside the large pipe._


	4. Party

Hello people! I'd just like to tell you that when Atobe and his dad's talking, I'm gonna call Atobe 'Keigo,' kay? Bye bye for now! Review!

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**"Party"**

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"Seira-chan, wait up! Wanna come to eat sushi with us?" Eiji bounded towards the walking girl.

Seira rolled her eyes as she turned around.

"No thank you. As pleasing as that sounds, I think I'm going to regurgitate every-"

"Oi! Midori! Ore-sama commands you to hurry up!"

Eiji looked past Seira only to spot Atobe frowning from inside his limo, the window rolled down.

"On second thought, I'd love to eat sushi-"

"Does Ore-sama actually have to get out himself?"

Seira inwardly groaned as she heard the door slamming shut, and rapid footsteps coming towards her.

"What is it?" she hissed, whirling around.

"Ore-sama needs to complete his project. Now, come."

"Yadda."

"Come."

"Yadda."

"Come!"

"Yadda!"

"Ore-sama demands you to get in the car right. Now."

"Yadda."

"Now!"

"No!"

"NOW!"

"NO!"

"NOW!!!"

"NO!"

"Monkey King."

Atobe's head snapped to his left, glaring at Ryoma, who smirked.

"Monkey King?"

Seira blasted into laughter.

"Nice name you've got there...Monkey King!"

"Ore-sama commands you to shut up."

Seira continued to laugh out peals of laughter.

"Oi! Shut up!"

Seira stifled her laughter, a smile tugging a her lips.

"In anycase, Ore-sama is tired, and wishes to go home-and he cannot without you, lest my father sees. Now come!"

With a sharp tug, Midori was shoved into the limo.

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"What?! A ball?! No. Way."

Seira shook her head slowly, shoving the elegant piece of cream-colored paper into Atobe's hands.

"Your father demands you to come, and Ore-sama has the responsibility of making sure that you look presentable-and that you don't run away!"

"So? Go without me!"

"Ore-sama can't!"

"Why not?"

"Ore-sama's credit cards will be cut of should a disaster happen! And I refuse to have that happen!"

"Well, I'm just not cut out for your so called 'eloquence,' got it?"

"Quit lying. Ore-sama knows that you were a perfectly noble lady three years ago, just like your sister," Atobe spat.

Seira's eyes widened. A distorted look crossed her face.

"No. I'm nothing like my sister-never was, never will be. Do something about the party yourself. Cuz' there's no chance I'm going."

Seira stalked out of the room, slamming the door closed.

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_"Father, have you called for me?" Atobe inquired as he strode into his father's study. His father looked up from his custom made cherry-wood desk.  
"Ah. Keigo, I went through a lot to pry this out of that old man Midori's hands for you. It's an album-with Seira's pictures inside along with her sisters...from three years ago. This should make your work considerably easier."_

_Keigo raised an eyebrow. Something that would make his work easier? Ha-the overstatement of the century._

_He walked over and gingerly picked up the royal blue album, engraved with gold letters, 'My Lovely Daughters.' He flipped the cover open, and his astonishment grew with each picture._

_Finally, he dropped the album back onto his father's desk._

_"Y-you mean to tell me...that's Seira?"_

_"And her sister. It seems she took some...change in personality three years ago...after her sister's death. However, by recreating something from those photos, you may be able to bring forth the 'lady' in her from years ago."_

_Keigo started to laugh. His father looked at him quizically._

_"Father, this must be a joke! That girl...is not Seira. She can't be!"_

_"Oh, but she is. And for heaven's sake, Keigo! Be careful with that album! It's old man Midori's most prized possession! And stop that laughter-it's discomforting me. You know how your mother can get if she sees me in such a state-she's such a worrywart. Now, begone."_

_The picture contained Seira, smiling lovingly with her eyes full of warmth. She sat poised in a lavender chair, her hair in curls which fell down her shoulders elegantly. Her hands lay gently on top of one another on her lap. She wore a beautiful dark blue dress, with bare shoulders and puffed, elbow-length sleeves. Sapphire studs adorned her ears, a delictate teardrop-shaped sapphire necklace hanging down her neck._

_-_

Atobe sighed. Just how was he to convince the girl to once more put on her ladylike aura? He sighed as he leaned further into the railing under the midnight sky. He glanced upwards, before slowly turning it to his side when he heard something...singing? A sweet melody filled the empty atmosphere. He gaped as he saw Seira, singing on her balcony next to his. Which was pretty far away, but nonetheless, he could still hear the music.

_"In a moment, everything can change,_

_Feel the wind on your shoulder,_

_For a minute, all the world can wait,_

_Let go of your yesterday._

_Can you hear it calling?_

_Can you feel it in your soul?_

_Can you trust this longing?_

_And take control,_

_Fly_

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

_You can shine,_

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try, cause it's your time,_

_Time to fly._

_All your worries, leave them somewhere else,_

_Find a dream you can follow,_

_Reach for something, when there's nothing left,_

_And the world's feeling hollow._

_Can you hear it calling?_

_Can you feel it in your soul?_

_Can you trust this longing?_

_And take control,_

_Fly_

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

_You can shine,_

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try, cause it's your time,_

_Time to fly._

_And when you're down and feel alone,_

_Just want to run away,_

_Trust yourself and don't give up,_

_You know you better than anyone else,_

_In a moment, everything can change,_

_Feel the wind on your shoulder,_

_For a minute, all the world can wait,_

_Let go of yesterday,_

_Fly_

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

_You can shine,_

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try,_

_Fly_

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try, cause it's your time,_

_Time to fly._

_In a moment, everything can change..."_

When Seira stopped, her eyes were still closed, crystal drops of tears trailing down her delicate face. She slowly opened her eyes, and Atobe hurriedly went back into his room before she could see him.

-

Seira had just finished wiping away the last of her tears when she heard a hesitant knock on her door. She opened it, and her eyes widened as she saw Atobe standing there.

She gaped.

Atobe strolled into the room, wordlessly.

"W-what do you want?" Seira asked tiredly, closing the door behind her.

She was quickly losing energy. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep, mumbling on and on about how guilty she felt, but nooo, this person had to show up-!

Seira uttered a low cry as she was into a pair of strong arms.

"You don't have to act strong all the time. Idiot."

Seira's eyes widened even further, then narrowed, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"You can cry sometime. Try it. Maybe then you won't have to act brutally towards Ore-sama."

At last, Seira cried. Tears fell down her pale cheeks. She cried, for the first time...in three years.

Seira clenched onto Atobe's silk shirt until her knuckled turned white, sobbing.

"I killed her...I killed her...I killed her...my own sister...!"

Atobe stared down at Seira, his brows furrowing together.

"I shouldn't have called her that day...I didn't mean to...she got distracted...it's all my fault!"

Atobe slowly started to frown. You can't kill someone by calling them...can you?

"She made the wrong turn...and...and...I killed her...!"

Atobe's eyes softened.

"You didn't kill her. It's not your fault."

Seira gasped. Someone had just easily uttered the words she had longed to hear for so long. The words she had longed to hear, but never heard. She never heard anything but consolation. Because no one knew.

No one knew that she'd called her sister, excited that her sister was coming back from Japan to Germany.

No one knew that her sister had been so happy that she accidentally made a wrong turn, sealing her fate.

No one knew.

Until now.

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**Three weeks later...**

"Do I really have to wear this thing?"

Seira gingerly held the blue piece of cloth between her index finger and her thumb out in front of her, peering at it through pained eyes.

Atobe huffed.

"Ore-sama went through all that trouble of having it remade in your size, so of course you must wear it! Are you that much of an idiot?"

"What did you say?!"

"Besides, Ore-sama expects you to look your best-Ore-sama has gone through much trouble to bring your former elegance back."

Seira snorted.

"Thank you, Mr. Gay Ore-sama."

"What?"

"And remember-the only reason I'm doing this for you is because I lost that bet-hey, I didn't know that that stupid Eiji would lose to Oichi."

"It's Oishi, if memory serves, you bumbling idiot."

"Is 'idiot' all you can say, Mr. Gay Ore-sama?"

"Ore-sama is not gay!"

"Okay, okay-sheesh-cool it, Mr. Gay Ore-sama! God-its not my fault that you wear silk purple shirts!"

"Purple is the color of royalty-as suited for Ore-sama, and silk is the richest of material! Unlike your puny little fake leather pants!"

"They are real leather, and leather is so much better than gay silk on a guy!"

"Oi!"

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**Two Days Later...**

"I must say, the dress looks surprisingly suitable on you."

"Surprisingly?" Seira glared.

"Ah. I expected more of a drooling donkey, but instead, out came a horse."

"Nani?!"

Seira fumed in her midnight blue dress-the exact same one she wore years ago in the photo. Atobe had had it remade into her current size, hoping that it would help to force Seira's rebellious self back-at least for the night.

This time, her long hair was put up on the back of her head, sapphire studs dancing around her hair, weaved into silver chains. She wore the same jewelry as well-but Atobe had had the earrings extended, so that the sapphire crystals now hung on delicate silver.

"Hold your temper-remember, you lost," Atobe arrogantly ordered.

Seira obeyed.

If one thing, Seira always remained true to her word.

But sometimes, that's not always a good thing-like this time.

To her at least. To Atobe, it was a ticket to freedom.

"You are the most pompous jerk I've ever see-"

"Seira! Is that you?"

Seira forced on the sweetest smile she could muster and spun around.

To be crushed underneath the weight of two humungous boobs, and a fat lady.

"Seira-it is you! I'd recognize that smile anywhere!"

"It's good to see you again, too," Seira choked out.

"It's been years since I last saw you-three years, was it? Oh!"

The lady heaved up off of Seira when Atobe gently tapped her.

"Is that Atobe Keigo I see? Seira-" the lady slapped Seira 'lightly,' which means that Seira practically toppled over- "You've got yourself quite a good catch, hm?"

"Hahhh?!"

"It's nothing like that, Mrs. Shitobu. I'm afraid that it's our fathers, summoning us. I'll see you in a while, Mrs. Shitobu," Atobe waved as he dragged Seira away.

"Wow-you can actually talk like an actual human being instead of saying 'Ore-sama' like a broken tape recorder," Seira marveled.

"Shut up! It's all about business, you fool. That lady happens to be a very successful corporation owner! Besides, three years?"

"I didn't attend any balls for the last three friggin' years!"

If anybody were to see this pair, they would see a pair of beautifully, elegantly smiling teens having the time of their lives. Oh, if they could only hear them!

"Do you even know the names of the people?!" Atobe demanded-the forced smile still on his face.

"What do you think, Mr. Business?!"

"Oh, so Ore-sama is now Mr. Business?!"

"Yeah-and the answer to your former questions is a big, fat, NO."

"What are you going to do?!"

"No. What are _you _going to do? Hey-I'm obedient for tonight, not Ms. Wonder Memorization."

"Okay, stop with the 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.!'"

"Whatever-oh, crap."

"What?!"

"Dad alert. On the staircase. With your dad. Crap."

"What?! Ore-sama's father can't be here this early-"

The two stopped in their tracks at the bottom of the staircase.

The two fathers stopped in their tracks at the top of the staircase.

And the two groups stared.


End file.
